


3"

by badseb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crowley sells his soul, Crowley's First Deal, Crowley's pov, FTM Crowley, POV First Person, Scotland, The King is born, Trans!Crowley, baby Crowley, crossroads deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 01:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8729506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badseb/pseuds/badseb





	

I ran down the hill, tripping over the hem of the clothes I hated. My shoes were long gone, but I knew the grass well, wet and slick in the midnight air. 

I fell once or twice- not because I was unpracticed at running these hills at midnight, but because I was so distraught. I didn't drop the box, though.

Down the hill, over the slotstone wall, down the lane. The moon seemed far too bright. I was coming at midnight for a reason, after all. But at this point I barely cared. I couldn't live this way for one more day.

I stopped at the crossroads and threw myself down, hurriedly digging with my hands. It was the proverbial less-traveled one, (whose irony was not lost on me) so the dirt was relatively soft. Soft dirt, but most of it was rocks. Bless my country. I pulled them up hurriedly with cold fingers. My hands were bleeding but I barely noticed so dire was my need. Besides, after a few minutes, the numbing pain was...almost enjoyable.

I buried the box and rose. The wind had picked up, blowing my hair around. I hoped this worked. Nothing else had.

"Hello," said a cool voice from behind me. I spun around.

"You called?" Asked the man. His eyes were pure black, like the backs of beetles set in his skull, and an evil little grin seemed permanently sewn to the corner of his mouth.   
"How can I be of assistance?" He asked.

"I want you to change me." I said, too needy to be nervous. 

"That can be arranged. What do you want? Prettier lips? Bigger tits?" he asked with a smile, eyeing me as if he knew how uncomfortable I was. Perhaps he did and was teasing me. They say demons could see your soul.

"I want a cock. I want to be male on the outside as I am on the inside." I said. The demon nodded. I wondered if anyone had asked him for this before, but he seemed unsurprised, so I figured he had.

"Alright." he said. 

"Alright? What's the catch?" I asked. "How do I pay?"

He smiled and laughed softly, his skin glowing in the pale moonlight that seemed to form a halo around his head. If one didn't know, one might suspect he was some sort of angel. But then, I had never seen an angel except in pictures.

"Your soul." He said. I hesitated.

"What does that mean? Can I live without it?" I asked.

"What I mean is you live happily for ten years, and then you come to me." He said.

"Where?" I asked.

"Hell." He replied.

"What's it like there?" I asked. 

"Do you never go to Church?" He asked with a wicked chuckle. "Naughty,"

In all honesty I had gone twice. My mother wasn't fond of the place, so I never went while she was still around. My adoptive aunt had dragged me there once when I was very young and then I went again when I was older to ask the priest if god could change me. He said no, so I sought help elsewhere.

The demon sighed.

"It's hot, there's fire, eternal torture..." He listed boredly.

"All right." I said. 

"All right?" He confirmed. "We have a deal, now we just have to seal it." He said with a creepy smile. People had given me that smile before, and would always call me 'girl' or 'wench' or other words I hated- often followed by pinching my sides or something very annoying. But I had learned to use this to my advantage, usually giving it all right back to them twice as strong. This would usually make them uncomfortable and they would leave me alone.   
But this was different. I wanted what he was offering and I didn't want him to change his mind, so I held my tongue.

"How?" I asked. 

"A kiss." He said. I obliged without hesitation. It wasn't as bad as I thought. His lips were cool and gentle, as if he was made of the midnight air. His cold finger-tips rested softly on my jaw but his mouth tasted like poison. I might or might not have enjoyed it. When he pulled away, my dress hung flat on my chest.

"Three inches," He added very softly, still looking at my lips, laughing as if he had made a terribly funny joke. Then he disappeared in a whiff of sulfur. 

I felt my chest, smiling hugely. I tried out my voice. I pulled up my skirt and saw my new beautiful cock. The three inches, I'd realized, were what he'd given me- but I was thrilled to have it. I tried not to cry of happiness, so instead I ran through the hills, feeling the sweet cold air fill my lungs, whooping for joy and triumph. I could finally be myself. I sang a drinking-song. I jacked off in the woods. I pulled off my dress and admired my body in the moonlight. It was a little scrawnier in translation than I'd like, so I resolved to start running and hurling more from now on. I wanted the nicest calves ever seen, and everyone would see them because I'd be wearing a kilt and not a stupid dress. 

Finally I sat against a tree and caught my breath. Ten years. I didn't loose my life, I gained ten years in which I would be able to live. I would be able to love. Ten years of delicious freedom out of which I would eek every last bite. And when the time came to pay, well, I'd work my way from there. I was resourceful. I'd figure out something.   
The prospect of Hell doesn't scare those who'd just been handed Heaven.   
In fact, I thanked Hell for giving me this. I laughed loudly in the dark.

~~~

"What DID you trade your soul for?" Dean asked, looking at me as if I were a piece of shit. I was, in a lot of ways, so I didn't mind. But I just grinned.

"Three more inches below the waist." I said, smiling. He looked at me disgustedly as if I were the most shallow thing in all Hell. But I just laughed. If I could do it over again I wouldn't change a thing. Not a damned thing.


End file.
